


Little Ballerina Lena

by darkrose921



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Consensual Underage Sex, F/F, One Shot, Smut, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 22:33:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12118635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrose921/pseuds/darkrose921
Summary: Lena Oxton wishes she could be that beautiful, picture perfect ballerina. She's not, but her ballet instructor, Madame Amélie is. Her admiration for her teacher blossoms, and innocent admiration soon becomes something a little more serious.





	Little Ballerina Lena

**Author's Note:**

> **Lena is underage when adult scenarios occur, so if you are not okay with this, please do not continue reading.**
> 
> Just self indulgent smut, with a bit of plot. Been meaning to post this, but kept forgetting. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy, leave a like n comment if you can!<3
> 
> (Also follow me on tumblr! @adieu-amelie)

Lena clutched the dingy material of her clothes tightly against her chest. She struggled to catch her breath with each wheeze of shaky inhales. She repeated this until her breaths came steady and natural. She stared into the glass window embedded into the door to her ballet class; which she was late for, again. Her eyes zeroed in on the mass of bodies swaying in harmony and her heart sunk a little. They had already started today's routine. She looked down at her jeans and t-shirt and inwardly congratulated herself for remembering to change into her leotard this time. But, she contemplated whether or not she should run and throw them in her locker before walking in and risk being even more late, or just tossing it to the side when she stepped through the door. The latter seemed the wiser she decided, as she tentatively clutched the door's handle.

Lena tried her darnedest to be really discreet, she didn't want to draw attention to herself, that was the last thing she needed. But as luck would have it, the foreign dance music that Lena hoped would drown out her intrusion ceased as she stepped in. She froze as all heads whipped simultaneously and trapped her in place. She always forgot about the mirrors...

"You are late again, Lena."

Hearing the blatant disappointment in Madame Amélie's voice roused a gnawing guilt feeling in the pit of Lena's stomach. It didn't mix well with the already nauseating sensation she was getting from the overwhelming anxiety and embarrassment. She heard the sigh that escaped her instructors lips.

"Why is that not in your locker?"

Lena followed the hand gesture that led to the pile of clothes still in her white-knuckled grasp. She cursed under her breath before speaking. She regretted not going back to put them away.

"O-oh, I figured I'd hold onto them so that I wasn't more late," she stammered.

And Lena visibly shrunk when sporadic giggles erupted from her classmates as they looked at one another, then back at her. She kept up a hard face (or so she told herself) as she solely focused on Madame Amélie and awaited the response she knew would rupture her bravado.

"Does that not seem redundant, Lena? You were already going to be late, you should have just stopped by before coming in."

"I-I'm, I'm sorry _Madame_."

Madame Amélie clicked her tongue and raised her eyebrows in what seemed like dismissal.

"Well, do not just stand there." She clapped her hands twice. " _Dépêchez-vous_ , take it from the top."

She sauntered gracefully to the bulky stereo and with a long, slender finger, resumed the French harmony.

"Lena, you can join whenever you are ready. Try and keep up."

And with that Madame Amélie and the rest of the dancers continued their ministrations and the room didn't feel so tense; Lena could actually breathe. The hardest part was over. She took long strides to the furthest corner of the room and plopped her clothes in a messy pile resting against juxtaposed walls. She hesitated before taking her place in the third row. It took a few moments to register where exactly in the routine they were at, but once she figured it out she did try and keep up.

" _Un, duex, troi..._ " the instructor repeated, and repeated for every set of moves.

It was hard to focus on her own form when Madame Amélie's was impossibly perfect in the way she danced. It was so natural and fluid, like she didn't even try. Lena would admit there was a hint of jealousy in her observations, but there was also the fact that she had a really embarrassing crush on her teacher. But Lena didn't like admitting it to herself. As much as anyone would disagree, Lena did love ballet. And she was passionate about it. She'd like to consider herself good, but everybody else was better. So when she stared at Amélie, she felt inferior and self-conscious, and this self doubt affected her performance that evening. She forgot to point her toes almost three times.

 

\--

 

"Bloody 'ell," Lena blurted out to herself once the class was over.

She swiped a shaky arm across her damp forehead, and collected the beads of sweat there. She surveyed the room tentatively behind her raised arm, and kept it at bay when she noticed the other girls were packing up quicker than she could blink. In a panic, Lena hurried to her pile of mess in the corner in hopes of blending in with the stampede of her fellow ballerinas so she could make her escape - unnoticed. She avoided any and all eye contact with Madame Amélie as she tailgated one of the taller girls in her class. Lena almost camouflaged herself successfully, but that heavy French accent was unmistakably clear when it called out after her through the clamor of chitchat. She stopped dead in her tracks, head slouched in defeat. A huff of self pity and she sauntered back over to her teacher. It was the damn hair of hers that had her caught, she was sure of it. That and those fucking _mirrors_.

"You wanted to see me?"

Lena forced a smile but when Amélie turned to face her and met her eyes, the smirk faltered and she instinctively averted her gaze down to her feet. The room was suddenly tense again and her breathing was constricted by the dry, seemingly non existent oxygen. She felt her cheeks heat up and didn't dare check her own reflection to confirm that she was blushing like a wanker.

"I count _Dix,_ " Amélie's voice yanked Lena from her daze as she whipped her head up at the unfamiliar words.

"Wh-what?"

Lena's eyes were wide and muddled, the flush across her face from humiliation was ever present. Though she had hoped it would appear that she were tomato-faced because of their strenuous dance session. Madame Amélie twitched her lip as she pointed down.

"Your toes. There are ten of them. Were you not counting them just now, _chérie?_

Lena looked down and didn't realize her feet were still bare, she wiggled them as she processed what Amélie had said. The tone in her voice was so pleasant and melodic; she didn't seem mad, but why not? So she looked back up with questioning eyes and a timid stare.

"I uh..." she choked on her own words, thankfully she didn't need to finish that thought.

"Lena, I am joking. You are so tense, I was just trying to lighten the situation, but perhaps I've made it worse."

The airy laugh that followed filled Lena's ears like a song. Her heart thumped and she cursed inwardly.

"Never was I known to be the best comedian, which is probably why I am a ballet instructor."

Lena's lip quivered and she may have turned a shade redder when she burst out into a fit of giggles. The laughter was unexpected, but it wasn't unwelcome. It was a chortle of relief Lena concluded, and she didn't feel so wound up anymore.

"Ah, there it is."

Madame Amélie bared her teeth in a satisfied smile. When Lena finally simmered down, she cleared her throat and shook her head.

"I sure needed that, luv. I was almost sure you were gonna yell at me for being late again."

Madame Amélie lifted her eyes to the ceiling and puckered her lips, mimicking contemplation.

"I have to admit, I thought about it. But actions speak louder than words," she mused aloud, with a smirk following suit.

She pedaled her feet backwards, extending her arm out before a dumbfounded Lena.

"Let me show you something," she said.

Lena couldn't register the invitation at first, and she crinkled her eyes and brows before taking the hand offered, tentatively. This may have sounded ridiculously cliché, but when she felt the impossibly smooth skin of Amelie's hands cradle her own, her entire body felt limp. And she may have squeezed the hand harder when her teacher swung her to the center of the room, spiraling clumsily into her arms. Her back collided with Madame Amelie's upper body. For a second, just a split second, Lena could feel and smell her teacher so intimately. She smelled so fresh, and feminine. Like flowers, or maybe...was it vanilla? Lena felt her cheeks burn 10 degrees warmer, and she bit the sweaty plump flesh of her lip. She craned her neck upwards, so bold of her, because she knew what awaited her she probably wouldn't be able to handle. She was right. _Why was she always right?_

The most velvety, inviting brown eyes met her timid gaze, enclosed around subtly makeup colored eyelids. And those same eyes blinked with the longest, prettiest eyelashes Lena had ever seen. It was almost like flapping wings of an angel. Lena lowered her stare down a porcelain face until they crossed paths with blood red lips, curled loosely on both edges. Lena sucked in a breath as the thought of grazing her own pale pink lips to her teachers filled her head. She scolded herself for having such thoughts, and it might've been effective had she not blurted out the second thought that managed to etch its way into her mind.

"Holy wow, you're pretty."

The collected face of the French woman contorted ever so slightly, and she turned her head, shielding her mouth politely as she attempted to suppress giggles.

"Shit, uh, hmm...did I say that out loud?"

Lena could've died in that moment. Had there not been an incentive to stay alive, she would've dropped dead, positively. But the feeling of a soft chest pressing into her upper back, and the embrace from the woman that chest belonged to was too heavenly to actually go to heaven. _Or was it hell?_ Ah, she didn't fucking care at this point. She was too gay to function anyway.

"You did indeed, but don't worry. I am flattered," Amélie reassured.

Lena wished she hadn't pulled away from her instructor's arms, but she did it in hopes of not further embarrassing herself. She chuckled awkwardly as she took two steps away from Madame Amélie. She turned to face her, on wobbly legs.

"So... you wanted to show me something?"

Lena played with her fingers, tugging at them and rubbing the skin there. She let her eyes drop to the floor as she waited for a response.

"Ah, yes." Amélie finally announced after what felt like too much silence. "Our little exchange almost had me forgetting, _chérie_."

Lena almost screamed because that sounded like flirting. But she was unsure. Adult flirting was a lot different than teenage flirting, right? With teens it was bizarre and so incredibly awkward, but you knew when the other person was interested in you. But when you're a 17 year old lesbian, that shit's hard. Impossible even, Lena could never differentiate between flirting or just being sweet. Girls are always so friendly and confusing, you kiss them and they're like, "awww I love you" and they'll kiss you back. But when you try and slip in a tongue they suddenly get freaked out.

Lena briefly wondered if her teacher had a soft spot for other women. Though that ring on her finger seemed troubling. Adults were complicated too but not in the same regard. All the complications roll in once you've actually gotten together. Leading up to it it's usually straight forward. Or so Lena assumed, from her observations of her parents and their adult friends. Still she had no way of interpreting those little gestures Amélie made, or the few smirks she caught glimpses of.

The sound of crescendoing foreign music roused Lena from her rambunctious musings. Her eyes followed the graceful body that galloped toward her. The eyes that trapped her in place lost all traces of the softness Lena had witnessed before, and now grew predatory almost dangerous. And she didn't know why, but it sent a pulse directly in between her legs.

"Let me see you dance, _chérie,_ " Amélie instructed.

"Since you decided to be late for class, again, you will need to make up for the time you did miss."

It was punishment enough to have to walk in late to a class already in progress with all eyes on her, so this here was torture. To be under scrutiny, tenfold, by her ballet teacher. Whom she might've been in love with. Lena didn't think her heart could succumb to all of this agony. She swallowed the thick lump that formed in her throat.

"You want me to dance the entire routine...right now?" Lena croaked.

Amélie's head hung high, her posture poised and perfect. Her disposition resolute. She nodded.

" _Oui._ "

Lena looked to the dance floor and back up at Amélie. She made sure to muster up the saddest puppy dog eyes she could manage. She sincerely hoped that in doing so, her teacher would have mercy on a pathetic soul and spare her the pain from having to do this. But Amélie took no pity on her, and even added to the mix.

"You will also be leading me."

Lena bit the insides of her cheeks to desperately repress the yelp that threatened to tear from her mouth. She looked at Amélie with pleading eyes, but the face she sought out for turned away, spitefully.

"Ready then?" Amélie queried, positioning herself a few feet away behind Lena.

She drank in Lena's priceless expression through the reflection of the mirror. And she didn't bother suppressing the chuckle that accompanied her amusement.

"On your feet, child. No more procrastinating," she commanded leniently.

Lena straightened heavy shoulders and did as she was told. Reluctantly, it was, but she knew she couldn't say no. Not when she was so smitten by her teacher, and certainly not for risk of angering said woman. The dramatic music grew louder, and Lena's heart thumped painfully against her chest. She turned to Amélie one last time, uncertainty plastered on her soft features. Her freckles accentuated by the scarlet stain that framed her cheeks. Madame Amélie's eyes gleamed, challenging Lena. Something swelled within her, the need to impress suddenly enraptured her doubts. Lena, now determined, faced the front.

The music quickened, the cue for the beginning of the dance routine was registered instantly. Lena began moving, confident and graceful. Her gallops precise, and her landings poised. Her toes remained idly pointed and obedient. She embodied perfection...for the time being. As the music played, so did her emotions. She really should've remained focused on herself and her movements, but the mirrors gave Lena too much access to the sight of her teacher. How close she had been to Lena, how sensual this whole thing seemed in those moments.

Light, honey-speckled rays of fleeting sunshine dove through the windows. Even though they had been partially covered by screens, the cast of warm orange did not fail to romanticize the situation. There was no commotion heard from the outside world. The ballet studio was too secluded for that, hidden away from society perhaps. A secret, not exposed to many. So no one knew about the two women alone tonight. No one would ever see what was going to happen.

"You are doing extraordinary! _N'arrêtez pas_ , Lena!"

Madame Amélie's breathing, Lena could tell, was hitched from the excursion of dancing, but still somehow maintained its silvery, distracting melody. Lena swallowed, and breathed fast. Sweat sliding off her skin profusely, as she spun, as she delved, as she continued this ethereal exchange next to this woman. She couldn't take her eyes off of Amélie anymore. The way her long, ember mane swung loosely in her ponytail. Coating her as she spun, almost entangling her. A boa constrictor, capturing its prey. But it was beautiful, and mesmerizing. The way her eyes fluttered closed when she was particularly concentrated, and how effortlessly she could orchestrate her body's fluidity. The light stain of pink, hugging her cheeks, the slightly parted lips. Lena wondered how her own pink puffy lips would react to being smothered by those devilish, red ones...

"Oh--fuck--!!"

Lena miscalculated her foot positioning and stumbled over her feet. Almost in collision with the floor, Lena didn't bother with trying to save herself, she was too far gone. She closed her eyes and waited for the sting of pain, but... it never came. And the floor seemed particularly soft and smelled so good...

Lena's eyes hesitantly raised their lids. Lena hated herself for ruining perhaps the best dance session she had ever attempted. But, that train of thought did not linger long, for the pleasant, inviting face of her teacher came into vision as Lena came back to reality.

Amélie hummed, didn't say a word. She stared at Lena, it seemed like she were deep in thought maybe. Silky brown eyes scanned Lena's face, hovering over her nose, eyes, and lips all at once. Their heavy breathing synced up, and their bodies rose and faltered together. Lena registered being in Amélie's embrace, she was actually in her arms. On the floor. Right now. _Bloody hell._

Still silent, save for the music that somehow started to become irrelevant background noise, Amélie lifted a hand and stroked the younger girl's hair. Her humming became the new source of music, one that Lena found herself pathetically drawn to. A smile was found on those blood red lips, narrowed eyes accompanying it.

"What happened, _ma chérie?_ " Amélie whispered.

"You got distracted," she answered herself.

Lena shook her head, slowly. Something about the way Amélie spoke to her, shot directly from her heart all the way down to her groin. It became apparent to her, that a mess surely coated her panties, slick and embarrassing. But she couldn't help it. Simply the presence of her teacher, made her shamefully drip.

"No, I--"

Lena's heart thumped too loudly for her words to be heard. Or spoken at all, really. She giggled nervously, lifting a shaky hand to swat at her face.

"Is it hot in here?" Lena absentmindedly queried.

"I think it's really hot in here, maybe we can open a window?"

Her words came out rushed and squeaky, like a shy little school girl. _Pull yourself together, for Christ's sake, Lena._ But Amélie didn't seem phased by her antics, not in the slightest. In fact, she seemed amused by the whole thing. She breathed out a laugh, and titled her head.

"It is a bit warm," Amélie declared.

"But perhaps only because we are so close to each other."

And that did it. Lena was officially soaked, and on the verge of passing out probably. Her face surely revealed too much, the red doubled in its efforts to devoid her face of normal skin color. Lena's fight of flight instincts kicked in.

"I-I should probably get goin' now 'cause my mum is gonna be...uh..."

Lena's words trailed off after an utterance of nonsense. Regardless she attempted to lift herself up, but a hand obstructed her path. Madame Amelie clicked her tongue , as she pressed down on the hand she had placed on Lena's chest.

"Be a good girl for me, will you?"

Lena's eyes widened before a half-hearted objection.

"But I--"

"Shhh."

And Lena obeyed, and ceased all attempt to flee. Especially when Amélie leaned in so close, their lips almost touched.

" _Bonne fille,_ " Amélie spoke, so huskily Lena's heart almost gave out.

Lena let out a whimper before finally filling the small gap between their mouths.

Electric. Fire, heat, and desperation. The kiss was so sudden, whipping Lena into a frenzy of feelings. Amélie's lips were so full and soft crushed against her own. She felt lips curving as she leaned into them. Then Amélie's lips began moving. Capturing, claiming her own. Like Lena wanted, like she craved. It was like being eaten, being taken, completely devoured by her mouth as she moved her lips over and over again. Then her tongue slithered out, coating saliva over Lena's pale lips and meshing with her own. Lena couldn't stop the moan from escaping when Amélie's tongue invaded her mouth so deliciously. The kissing was fervent, animalistic, and so so hot.

Amélie stopped when her thoughts became too loud. Something, amongst all the heavenly sensations, felt wrong. She felt exposed, too susceptible to judgment. Lena looked so vulnerable in her arms. Mouth gaping, shimmering and trembling. Eyes wide and wanton. The poor girl was a mess, and Amélie was to blame. But she looked adorable, stunning. She could just eat her up. She wanted to.

Amélie surveyed the room around them, and felt uneasy. The mirrors. They were watching her. Reminding her of the setting, of the reality of the situation. She was a teacher, and this was her student. Her 17-year-old student. Should she have cared? Yes. Did she? Not enough.

"Lena," Amélie breathed.

"Do you want me to touch you?"

Lena didn't even think about it before vigorously nodding.

"Let me take you home, then."

 

\--

 

Lena said nothing as she entered the jet black Ferrari, and she said nothing the 10 minute drive through the empty night. She sat in the passenger seat, knees leveled with her shoulders as she hugged her legs close. Lena did manage a few glances here and there at Amélie, whose face was tight and focused on the road. But the occasional twitch of her brow hinted at something else.

When the car came to a stop, Lena looked up to a house just as ostentatious as the vehicle. Lena couldn't believe how affluent Madame Amélie seemed to be, and why she had chosen the career of a ballet instructor. Nevertheless, she exited the car when Amélie opened the door for her. And took the hand offered as they walked together, against the crisp air.

 

\--

 

Lena felt insignificant in comparison to the grand walls of Amélie's bedroom. It was beautiful, archaic in decor yet tasteful. It was all so very _Amélie_ , and the fact that Lena was currently taking up space in the room of her teacher made her knees weak. She couldn't find the audacity to examine what occupied the dressers and tabletops as she waited for the other woman.

Sometime during their arrival, she had slipped off into the bathroom and told Lena to wait for her. So she did. The waiting though, didn't aid in the anxiety that began to bubble up. Lena sat on the bed, fidgety and afraid. But, she wasn't going to back out now. She couldn't fathom how unreal this all seemed. Was she really about to get shagged by her teacher? No answer was needed as the devil herself emerged from the darkness.

Lena hung her head low, unable to meet eye contact with Amélie. She gripped the bedsheets underneath her, awaiting whatever was about to happen.

"Tell me something, _chérie,_ " her voice seemed to echo. Haunting.

"Are you afraid?"

Lena looked up.

"No," she lied.

"Mm, are you certain?"

Amélie prowled closer, the absence of light forced her body to a silhouette. But as she stepped right before Lena, the silky white robe draped over her body became visible. As did the lacy black lingerie underneath. Lena gulped.

"A bit...nervous." Lena admitted, not shying away from the hand that cupped her chin.

She would not tell Amélie, but this was to be her first time. Her first time with another person, her own fingers didn't count. So she was nervous, so bloody nervous. But she wanted it, bad. Lena bit her lip.

"Nervous enough to leave?"

Amélie provided a subtle escape route had Lena not wanted to go through with this. If she wanted out, this was her chance. Her heart swelled at the fact that Amélie was nice enough to give her an option of backing out.

"No, no... I want to stay."

Lena's mouth felt dry, so she swallowed and swallowed. The lump in her throat surely deriving from her teacher's half naked form right in front of her face. She wanted to reach out and touch. But Lena refrained. She met Amelie's face.

" _Bien,_ " she grinned.

"Would have been a pity."

Suddenly, the hand that had held her head up, snaked down to her chest. Over her heart. Lena worried Amélie would feel her overactive heartbeat and get repulsed or something. But the hand there only applied pressure until Lena's back hit the feathery sheets. The mattress dipped beneath her, as Amélie crawled leisurely over Lena's body. Her hand trailed a path from the tips of Lena's knees where her legs hung off the bed, all the way up to her neck. Lena scooted herself further up on the expanse of mattress, so her whole body was atop. Amelie followed her, not allowing much wiggle room. Her long, lithe body looming over Lena like she were her prey.

Amélie was tall, having a few generous inches over Lena, and here Lena could avow that fact. She felt trapped, by her body and her gaze. Lena's eyes zeroed in on the curve of breasts hugged greedily by the lacy black bra. They were round and beautiful. Her hand ached to touch them. As if Lena had verbalized her desire, Amélie chided.

" _Non,_ only good girls get to touch."

Lena whined, but kept her hand tangled in the sheets.

"Mmm," Amélie's grip tightened around Lena's fragile neck. She angled her head away and lowered her lips to Lena's ear.

"The little sounds you make for me," she whispered.

"I don't think I will be able to control myself."

Lena's brows knitted together, as she squeezed her legs in attempt to ease away the ache that settled in between them. Her underwear clung uncomfortably, sticky against her bare skin. With the side of Lena's face against the mattress, Amélie couldn't see the reaction her words had on the girl. But she could feel it. Lena's petite body trembled slightly and her fingers dug desperately into the covers. Below her, Lena's legs were restless and knowingly squeezing shut. Amélie purposely gasped, in a mock show of shock.

"Is somebody wet?" She cooed.

She angled Lena's head to face hers.

"When did that happen?" She spoke low, but purposeful.

"Just now?"

Amélie put a finger to Lena's pouting lips.

"Or perhaps back at the studio?"

Lena tried to speak, but Amélie slipped her probing finger passed Lena's mouth. A rough chuckle tore through the darkness.

"Was it when I scolded you for being late to class?"

Lena sucked ardently on her finger.

"Oh, you filthy girl," she coaxed.

"Did you want me to yell at you? Does that make you wet?"

Lena moaned around the finger, for her words were of no use. A whimper followed, almost a cry. Tears threatened to spill from her shut eyes. She couldn't begin to explain how turned on she was, how hot her body felt. Every touch from Amélie sent a fire coursing through her skin, every whisper in her ear sent a gush of fluid oozing from her aching pussy. Lena felt like she would die, positively perish, if her teacher did not give her what she needed. And soon.

"You are so eager for it, aren't you?" Amélie teased, cupping Lena through her soaked panties, even the leggings to her leotard were damp.

Lena instinctually bucked in her palm, desperately seeking any type of friction.

"Mmmm!"

Lena almost bit down on Amélie's appendage, still lodged selfishly in her mouth. But she didn't, for risk of actually tearing through skin, bone even. She was too wound up to think coherently, words were a figment of imagination at this point. But Amélie thought differently.

"I want to hear you," she said, slipping out her long finger slowly, and sensually.

A trail of saliva, following suit before snapping and coating the lips and chin of Lena. Amélie pulled down the leggings just enough for access to where she wanted most. She unclasped the one piece, masterfully without even needing to gaze down. Amélie didn't dare feel her, yet.

"Beg for it."

Lena couldn't release the hold she had on her lower lip. Her teeth dug mercilessly into flesh, blood on the verge of surfacing. Lena's throat stung, her tongue would not function properly.

"P-please," she managed, but nothing more than a faint whisper.

Amélie shook her head.

" _Non, chérie._ "

She removed her hand, and leaned down close again. But instead of reaching for an ear, she molested the flesh of the younger girl's neck with enthusiastic lips. Her kisses were violent, forcing Lena's head to bob to the side every time Amélie made contact. The sound of her lavishing affections filled the room unapologetically.

"Beg prettier," she demanded between kisses.

Lena sighed from the sensations of sucking at her throat. Her hand reached out for something to hold on, but as soon as they clutched the dangling cloth of robe, Amélie's own hands seized and pinned them to the bed.

"I'm waiting," she reminded.

"Please! Please, Madame...I...need you."

Amélie ceased her ministrations with Lena's neck. She forced eye contact with the girl, Amélie's brown eyes completely enraptured by the surrounding darkness. They looked pitch black, and Lena could've been afraid of the sight, had she not been too distracted by the maddening throb between her legs.

"You need me to...what?" Amélie hissed, inconspicuously enjoying the expression Lena's brightly colored face wore.

Lena tried her hardest to stare back, her eyes wanting nothing more than to shut and endure the borderline pain.

"Need you to fuck me...please, I need it so bad, I--"

Before she finished her pleas, Amélie's hand shot down and smoothed over Lena's mound. What Amélie found was finely shaven skin, and a pool of desire all for her. So she sunk her finger in, deep.

Lena gasped out and even lifted from the bed, partially. The unexpected sting, painful at first, tore through the ache. She was tight, yes, but so incredibly wet that Amélie's fingers slipped in with ease, all the way down to the knuckle.

"What dirty things spill from your mouth, _chérie._ Not as innocent as I thought."

Her words rolled off her tongue, her heavy French accent added in its effectiveness, its severity. She pulled out her finger, slow and calculated. But just before Lena could complain, she rammed it back in with a force the girl could not handle. Again, the finger invaded her depths, pulling out and then quickly reentering. A brutal pace was set, and the sound of her wet pussy filled her own ears. After a few afflicting thrusts, the pain seemed to falter and vanish completely. Instead with each pump of Amélie's finger, a feeling of pressure began to build. And the deeper the finger went, the better it felt.

Lena whimpered and whined with every movement. The pleasure took her by surprise, and clouded her thoughts and vision. Euphoria and hypersensitivity flooding her systems.

"What a good girl, taking it so well," Amélie praised.

Lena couldn't speak, only utterances of grunts, moans, and gasps were her reply.

"You know..." Amélie's voice sounded muffled through the pounding in Lena's ears.

"I've seen the way you look at me," she said.

Lena's heart thumped even more sporadic at that, she angled her head to stare down at Amélie, who rested on the tops of her thighs. Her hand had covertly slowed down its ministrations, to which Lena frowned at.

"I'm-i was so close," Lena whimpered.

"Why did you stop?"

At this, Amélie pulled out completely. She shrugged. Lena watched with wide eyes and quivering limbs as Amélie lifted shimmering fingertips to her mouth. Amélie's mouth enclosed around them, sinfully and she even managed a smirk whilst. As she eased them out, her eyebrows lifted and her eyes smiled on their own.

"Your taste, _ma chérie_...exquisite."

The huskiness in her voice made it hard for Lena to swallow, again.

"Do you leave a shameful little mess, as sweet as this, for me whenever I catch you staring?"

For the first time that night, Lena felt too embarrassed, albeit highly aroused, to respond in any way.

 She shielded her face with clammy palms and her skin burned her hands. Amélie's lower lip pursed as she tilted her head.

" _Quel précieux..._ "

Lena felt herself dripping onto the mattress, and she would've tried to close her legs had Amélie's weight not been forcing them to the bed.

"Lena, look at me."

Lena poked an eye out through trembling hands.

"Can you take two of my fingers?"

It hadn't really been a question of doubt, for it sounded more like a suggestion. At this point Lena would be willing to take an entire fist up there with how needy she had been. She wanted everything, she wanted to get fucked until she couldn't breathe. It was manic, the urgency of it all and Lena was aware of how pathetic it was. But she... _for the love of bloody fucking Christ,_ could not help it. Madame Amélie drove her to the brink of insanity, teased her until words made no sense, and until her body slaved for her.

"Yes!" she choked.

"I can, just please give me more."

Lena spoke through her hands, stifling her words. But Amélie heard, and was very pleased. She wasted no time and dove dual fingers, as promised, into the waiting heat. Lena's virgin walls clamped around the extra intrusion and made it a bit more difficult to thrust in fully, at first. But when her teacher decided to have her thumb brush over her attention-deprived clit, the fingers slipped in with ease.

Amélie chuckled low, and stared at the way her fingers disappeared into the girl's dripping cunt. She became more enthusiastic with her thrusts as Lena's vocalizations surfaced. Amélie noticed after a few forceful thrusts, that Lena's legs began to quake. A tell tale sign of what she knew would come, inevitable of course, but incredibly desirable. Lena felt herself threaten to burst, and she meant literally, burst. She'd never had an actual orgasm before but knew this was what it had to feel like before having one. And fuck, was it blissful.

Tears formed at the corners of her eyes, clogged by how tight she held them.

"Amé-, I...-"

"Hands down, I want to see your face when you come."

Amélie situated her body, over her hands, the extra weight over them providing the force Lena needed. When Lena removed her own hands, the first thing she saw was Amélie's silk robe bunched up at her waist, and her hips angled with Lena's own. It looked like Amélie was actually fucking her, with a cock and all. She even jerked her hips with every thrust. The way her breasts bounced, practically spilling from the garment that held them. The way her hips rolled (deliciously, maddeningly) into her; Lena felt her pressure at its peak.

"I think I'm gonna... _Madame,_ I..."

 _"Oui, chérie,_ give me your release."

She grunted and her words were strained from arduous movements. Everything and the hitch in her teacher's breath was enough to carry Lena over the edge. Her toes curled at the edge of the mattress and her hands assaulted the fabric of the comforter. Her body lifted as she rode her orgasm, streams of pleasure bled from her heat, and stars and explosions invaded her vision. She screamed Am _é_ lie's name and a trail of squeaks and whimpers followed. Lena half registered Amelie's voice underneath the clouds she was riding on. She was encouraging and praising and guiding Lena back down from her high.

Lena still didn't know what an orgasm felt like because she was positive she just experienced death and ascension to heaven. The next thing Lena felt was emptiness and loss. Then warmth and kissing. Blackness lingered before Lena opened her eyes. Even though no light was present, Lena's eyes still felt the need to adjust and squint at nothing. But something materialized before her weak vision. Lena blinked and blinked until Am _é_ lie's face was perfectly discernible as it hovered above her.

"How was it?" Amélie whispered before placing a tender kiss to Lena's forehead.

" _La petite mort_ , as we tend to call it."

Lena ran her fingers through her hair as it clung to her sweat stained face.

"It was..." Lena shook her head incredulously and sighed.

"I don't think I can take your class anymore, Madame."

Amélie's breathing was hindered as she exhaled a laugh.

"What?"

Lena giggled.

"I won't be able to be in the same room with you and not think of this!"

"Ah, a fair point," Amélie agreed.

Lena's laughed shifted to a yawn and her vision blurred.

"Well, maybe we can see about private sessions then, hm?

Amélie's voice faded in and out and Lena barely responded.

"Mmm... that's...good...cheers."

And Lena dreamed of the brightest and gayest rainbows. And sparkles, and Madame Amélie.

 

\--

 

Clamor, commotion, anxiety. Frantic movements and noise, too early in the morning to occur. Lena groggily registered what she was waking up to.

" _Merde,_ " she heard in the distance, her eyes still not yet ready to open.

The sound of hands frantically smoothing over fabric, pillows being thrown beside her head. One eye poked open.

"Amélie?"

" _Dieu,_ Lena, get up. Get dressed," Amélie pleaded, and tossed Lena's clothes at her face.

Lena pried the garments from her head, and partially sat up. She looked for a clock.

"Wha- it's only 4 am!" And Lena could've sworn she heard the clap of thunder, a storm surely unraveling beyond these walls.

"Lena," Amélie's voice obviously distraught. She hastily tied the dangling strings of her robe with fumbling hands.

"Don't argue with me, you need to leave..." she also looked up at the time. "...now."

Lena held up her leggings, a wet spot still occupying the area where legs met groin.

"But they're still...icky."

Lena grimaced and let the pants drop on her lap. A groan escaped her teacher's lips and she swiveled in place, searching for something unknown to her observer. Lena frowned when Amélie presented a large, and rather showy coat. She extended her arm in invitation.

"Take it, " she said.

"Just cover yourself and go."

Lena took the coat offered, reluctantly. She slipped one arm through, the material was frigid against her warm skin.

"Why do you want me to leave?" Lena asked, afraid of the answer. Amélie let her hair down, a sight so beautiful to Lena it made it all the more difficult to leave. She combed thick strands with her fingers.

"Because he's coming," she answered.

Lena's eyes narrowed. "Who's coming?"

Amélie's face contorted and she glared at Lena. Despair coated her face before she divulged in the agonizing truth.

"My husband."

And that's when Lena saw Amélie correct the absence of jewelry on her hand. Out from the pocket of her robe, she pulled the ring out and slipped it over the finger that had just been inside Lena not too long ago.

Lena's stomach lurched and her heart accompanied the pain as it fell and shattered into her gut. She stood from the bed.

"You...you're married?"

A dumb, mindless, nonsensical query, for the obvious answer had already been divulged. She had a husband. She had seen the ring before, back at the studio. Lena knew, but she kept feeding herself lies.

A slam of a door somewhere below, in the immensity of the house, directed both of their attention.

"The back door!" Amélie motioned violently to the only door other than the main ones.

"Follow the stairs, it leads directly to the garden. You can circle around to the front," she idly informed as she slipped beneath the covers of her bed.

When Lena remained frozen in place, Amélie reiterated, harsher. "Foolish girl, go now."

Lena nodded, her throat tightening and nose bubbling. She turned to leave.

Amélie exhaled a whisper, "Forgive me, Lena."

Lena let the words hit her before shutting the door. She stuffed her hands into the huge pockets of the coat, that sickeningly smelt like Amélie. She hurried down the stairs and didn't bother looking back. She reached the exit and stepped out into the flooding garden. The heavy rain hit the coat noisily, and Lena didn't bother putting the hood up. She couldn't admire the beauty of the roses, the vines, all of the green and pink and violet. She shunned the entire scenery and the tall walls of the estate as she darted passed.

When she arrived to the front of Amélie's house she heaved. Her hand still lodged in the pockets, they gripped the insides as she spewed repulsive bile from the twinge in her belly. She had no food to vomit for she couldn't remember the last time she ate. She shakily wiped her mouth, with her hand and not the sleeve of the coat, she made sure.

And Lena quickly forgot about the puke and the pain.

She was thankful it was still dark, and she was thankful for the rain.

It would wash away the evidence of where she got sick.

And It would camouflage the tears that streamed like bullets down her face as she disappeared into the impending twilight.

**Author's Note:**

> Dépêchez-vous - hurry up
> 
> N'arrêtez pas - don't stop
> 
> Bonne fille - good girl 
> 
> quel précieux - how precious
> 
> la petit mort - the little death
> 
>  
> 
> also pls don't mind the little errors and typos scattered about. In my defense, it's hard to catch all of them by myself. plus I'm kinda lazy .. :')


End file.
